Bizzare Days at the Lab
by Linwe Melwasul
Summary: FLUFF ALERT. Short fic I wrote when I was sick. Greg has a week filled with bizzare CSI's and gung-ho combat fantasies.


_A/N- just a short piece of fluff that I wrote when I was sick. There's really no point to it but i'm bored. hope you're amused by the randomness. Please read but review only if you want._

Greg lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. The remnants of the last week drifted through his brain. Sometimes the images were crystal clear and other times the images were fuzzy and confused. He closed his eyes and though about how it had all happened. How it had started with Warrick coming into the lab 5 days ago...

Greg was comparing DNA and listening to Ramones when Warrick's voice started singing along.

_I don't care about history_

_Rock Rock, Rock and Roll High School_

_but that's not where I want to be_

_Rock Rock, Rock and Roll High School_

_I just want to have some kicks_

_I just want to get some cheese..._

Greg looked up. "Warrick, it's chicks, not cheese. Any self-respecting person would know that."

Warrick simply shrugged and walked out of the lab humming the same song. Greg went back to the DNA and thought, _He's cracked._

Later the same day in the break room, Greg encountered another peculiar CSI. This time, it was Catherine quoting Shakespeare. "Love is not love when it is mingled with regards that stand aloof from the entire point. King of France from the play _King Lear_." Greg chose to ignore her as he was seriously confused.

Catherine started on another quote and Greg listened with mild interest as she rambled on. _Wonder where she learned all this._ He thought as she finished. "Romeo, Romeo. Where art though Romeo?"

Greg decided to counteract her and he quipped, "Here fair Juliet." Catherine smiled and ruffled his hair. "Close, but no cigar my dear merchant of Venice." Greg jumped up and ran to the washroom to fix his composure and most importantly, his hair.

Greg came in the next day prepared for almost anything. What he wasn't prepared for, though, was Grissom belting out show tunes on a karaoke machine that he had brought in with him. Greg stood dumbfounded as his supervisor did a rousing rendition of _Tomorrow_ from _Annie_. Apparently Greg was the only one who found this bizarre. Everyone else was walking past normally as if no one was there. Greg pinched himself and found that this was not a dream.

He went to the safety of the lab and sat down heavily. He was definately still in Las Vegas and that definately was his boss. The date was right and the clocks weren't spinning backwords. And as far as he was aware he was still Greg Sanders, hunky Lab Technician. _Wait, _he thought with a start,_ what if I'm _not_ Greg? What if I'm someone else? What if I'm really a CIA agent who got their memory erased. Nonsense, Sanders. _His conscious said,_ You just watch too many movies. _"That's right. I shouldn't have watched Bourne Identity last night. My life messed enough right now. I need a coffee."

He went to his stash to get his coffee but found half of it gone. With a shriek, he ran out of the lab. All thoughout the building he searched for his precious coffee beans. Finally after an hour of fruitless searching, he resigned himself to the so-called 'coffee' that the Crime Lab provided them. "I'm going to kill the person who took it." he muttered darkly to the liquid in his cup. It didn't reply.

The day after, Greg seriously debated about staying home and faking sick but his love of his job made him go to the lab. He parked his car in the lot and decided on how to get in. With a smile, he went around to the back of the building and made believe that he was in a war zone and that the DNA lab was his home base. Of course, all the other CSI's would be the enemies. He carefully slipped in and peeked around the corner. Running to the next corner, his fantasy got more wild. He began humming the _Mission: Impossible_ theme song and actually dropped onto the ground when he heard a noise. Crawling forwards, he heard Nick's voice coming towards him. Panicking, Greg threw himself into an imaginary cave. In reality it was a broom closet.

When the voice passed, Greg stuck his head out of the closet. He pulled back in and made a battleplan. "Alright men," he said to his imaginary troops sitting around him. "The enemy is everywhere. We have to make this last stretch as quick and qiuetly as possible with minimal or no casualties. If one of us doesn't make it, then they will be deeply missed. Move out!" Going completely gung-ho, Greg ran to the lab. He rolled in and congratulated himself on the successful mission. "Sanders, you are one hell of a guy." Yet much to his delight, the rest of the day passed with no other exciting moments or crazed CSI's.

Thursday. The second last day of the week and Greg's second last day of being around mentally-disturbed colleuges. The first part of shift had passed with no amusement when Sara came into the lab. "Hello Greg" she said.

"Um, hi." he said. Sara looked normal enough, but then he noticed her clothes. "Sara, why are you wearing a carrot suit?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just like it. Is orange my colour or do you thing that a hot dog would be better?" Greg's mouth moved up and down soundlessly as he stared.

"Do you know where my coffee is?"

"Actually, yes. Nick took it two days ago. You know what? I think that I like green better. Maybe a head of broccoli."

"Sara? Why is everyone so wierd?" Greg said through a cracking voice.

Sara took no notice and walked out of the lab to go change into a head of broccoli. Greg sat down on the floor and tried not to pass out. _Am I the only normal one here? Am I dreaming? Where's Nick? I want my coffee. I want a big cup of coffee. I also want...Mr. Num-nums._ He thought about his childhood stuffed bear and decided that it was time to take Mr. Num-nums out of the closet and give him a big hug. He drove home and sat down to watch _The Chronicles of Riddick_ with a bowl of popcorn and Mr. Num-nums.

Finally, Friday came around. Greg took a deep breath and went to his car. He had a feeling that Nick was behind all of this. The CSI's acting oddly and his missing coffee. He had thought about it the night before and figured that there was a connection. After much to short a time, Greg was standing outside the crime lab. He walked in and found the place empty. There wasn't a soul to be seen aside from himself. He carefully walked through the building in the direction of the break room and found no one. "I wonder if they all got abducted by aliens." his voice echoed eerily in the hallway and his footsteps made for to much noise. He entered the break room to find everyone in the building. Some part of the back of his brain wondered how they could all fit in there when he noticed that some people were in the rooms adjoining.

"Hey, Greg. Confused?" Nick asked.

Greg nodded and blinked a couple times. "Wha?"

Nick laughed and started to explain. "It was all my idea. I got everyone to behave oddly to confuse you. I then stole your coffee and told Sara. We also laughed at your antics on Wednesday. You know, going all gung-ho and being stealthy around the lab. you obviously weren't paying attention to the video cameras. Anyways, the main reason for doing all of this is, well, happy birthday."

Greg blinked and then realized that it _was_ in fact his birthday. He just hadn't been thinking about it since everyone was acting oddly in the past week. "Thanks, Nick, but can I have my coffee back?"

Laying in bed, Greg opened his eyes. The party had been a blast with lots of partying and loud music. Everyone laughed at Sara's carrot suit and encouraged Grissom and Warrick to do a duet. Eventually, they sang _The Phantom of the Opera_ together with Warrick as Christene and Grissom as the Phantom. The party had gone on until day shift where a very mad Ecklie had to clean up the mess left behind. And in the end, Greg got his coffee back and Mr. Num-nums sat proudly on top of his dresser.


End file.
